Grape Vines
by aria986
Summary: Five times SHIELD gossips got it wrong and one time they didn't.
1. Chapter 1

This is a work of fanfiction. No profit is being made.

* * *

Steve parked his bike in the secured garage and trotted across the street to his building. He had recently moved out of his apartment in Brooklyn and took one in the building SHIELD kept for it's employees. It was nicknamed The Barracks and Steve thought the name was very appropriate. The building was very utilitarian and the apartments were tiny. Consisting of only one bedroom, a bathroom and a living room with a kitchenette. Sometimes he regretted moving but it did not make sense to keep an apartment that was so far from headquarters. He spent little time there and had few personal belongings.

He quickly made his way up the stairs to his apartment, bypassing a couple of agents on their way out. He smiled when they greeted him and was relieved when they moved on. His first week had been awkward, many of the agents treated him like a celebrity. They had flocked around him until he had seriously reconsidered living here. Then they just stopped. He thought maybe Barton and Romanov had something to do with it but, when he asked them about it, they shrugged and denied it. He was just happy it was over.

He changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and returned to the main room. He was halfway through his book and he wanted to finish it before bed. He had just settled on the couch when he heard a clatter in the hallway and cursing. He went to the door, hoping that no one had gotten hurt. When he opened the door he found the floor covered with clothes and other items that a woman was viciously shoving back into a box. The first thing he noticed were her curves. He had always been a sucker for curvy girls. Her brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in a riot of curls. Then he noticed her eyes, they were red from crying and he felt like a jerk for eyeing her up.

"Let me help you." He said as he knelt to reach the items that were out of her reach. As he moved to put them in her box he was hit by the smell of alcohol. She was obviously drunk.

"Thanks." She sniffed and covered her face. She curled over and her shoulder shook once in a silent sob.

"Are you ok?" he asked, softly.

"No," she replied.

"Is there anything I can do?"

She took a deep breath and braced herself. "Can you help me get these downstairs?"

"Yeah." He took one box while she took the one that had fallen and he followed her as she went down the hall to the stairs. He was worried about her going down the stairs in her condition but she went slowly and held tight to the rail. They made it to the bottom without any problems. She went out to the front of the building and dumped her box on the curb. He wondered who the man was that had upset her enough for her to toss out his belongings.

"Just leave it here." She told him. He placed the box next to the one she had dropped. "Thanks," she told him and went back into the building. He trailed behind her as she climbed the stairs as carefully as she had went down them. They were on the last flight before their floor when someone shouted a level down and she jumped. Her foot missed a step and she started to fall.

He snatched her out of the air and held her to his chest. She gasped and clung to him. "I've got you. You're okay."

She simply sobbed in reply. "I saw him. I saw him with her! A year and a half we've been... who knows how long he's been... I took him home to meet my family!" She broke off as her sobs became too harsh for her to speak. He held her awkwardly as she cried. He didn't know if he should speak or simply let her cry herself out. He shifted until they were both seated on the stairs, but he kept his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight into his side. They sat there for several minutes until her cries began to abate, eventually they trailed off into the occasional sniffle or hiccup.

"Which apartment is yours? I'll help you get there." He said. When she didn't reply he looked down at her face and realized she had fallen asleep. He jostled her lightly. "Miss, you need to wake up." He tried several more times to wake her but she fast asleep. He stared at her in panic, unsure what to do. Voices drifted up the stairs, someone was coming this way. She didn't deserve to have people see her like this. He picked her up carefully and part of him couldn't help but notice how well she fit into his arms. He carried her into his apartment and settled her on his bed. He pulled off her shoes and glasses before tucking the blankets up around her shoulders.

* * *

The next morning he woke wondering why he was on the couch before he remembered his guest. He stretched and looked at the clock. He really needed to get ready for the day. SHIELD had him working with the more advanced junior agents on their combat training. The higher-ups were hoping to find the next generation of super agents to follow in his teammates footsteps. He slowly opened the bedroom door and peaked inside. He couldn't help but blush. She was still asleep but she must have gotten over warm in the middle of the night because her clothes were flung all over the room. She was laying on her stomach with her arms tucked under the pillow. The sheet was twisted about her middle and only covering one leg. He thought about skipping his shower but he had a meeting this morning and he didn't want to smell. He moved quietly around the bed to his closet and dresser. He paused while pulling out his clothes to look at her again. She was facing away from him, her hair fanned out over the pillows and her bare shoulders. His eyes traced over the bright blue straps of her bra across her back and down that one bare leg. His fingers ached to draw her and he briefly considered skipping his meeting and getting his sketchbook. He shook his head at that thought, she was not his to draw.

He went into the bathroom and climbed into the shower. He took his time, enjoying the feel of the steaming water on his muscles and wishing it could ease the ache in his heart. After he exited the shower, he dried off and started dressing. He had just pulled on his shirt but had not buttoned or tucked it in when he heard a clatter in his bedroom and faint cursing. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, he turned and opened the bathroom door. Thankfully she had her clothes on. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

She froze in the middle of picking her shoes up off the ground and looked up at him. "Oh, thank God you're not ugly!"

"What?" he asked, confused.

She dropped her shoes and sat on the bed. "Waking up in a strange bed does not usually end this well. This is _so_ not what I had planned for last night." He blushed as she ran her eyes up and down his body. "Not that I'm going to complain. Guess I can cross off getting even. I just wish I could remember it." Suddenly she was off the bed and running her hands down his chest.

He grabbed her hands. "What are you doing?!"

She looked up at him with a saucy grin, "trying to jog my memory."

"You never touched me!"

"I didn't?" She looked down at his chest, obviously not believing him.

"I helped you with your boxes." He told her.

She nodded. "I vaguely remember that."

"You started crying and fell asleep. I didn't know where you lived."

Her eyes got wide. "We didn't have sex?"

"No."

Suddenly her face was bright red. She pulled away from him and resumed frantically gathering her clothes. "I am so sorry. Thanks for... well, just thanks. I'm going now." Then she was running out and he heard his front door slam.

* * *

Later that day, he saw her heading out of the cafeteria and rushed to catch up with her. He grabbed her arm and, when she turned around, she looked at him with pure panic. "Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she replied, her voice was faint but tense.

He was aware of the stares they were receiving and pulled her around a corner. They were still visible but not as many people could see them. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out her glasses. "You, uh, forgot these."

She took them and blushed. "Thanks."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like an idiot. An idiot that's been sat on by an elephant."

"Please don't. You had a rough day and it was a misunderstanding."

She ducked her head. "Thanks, for helping and for returning these. I've been running into things all day."

"It's no problem." He reassured her. "I'm just glad I could help."

"I'm Darcy by the way. Darcy Lewis."

"Steve Rogers."

She cocked her head, obviously familiar with the name and trying to place it. He waited with dread. Then her eyes got wide and she stared up at him "I felt up Captain America?"

* * *

After training, Clint caught up to him as he headed into the locker room. "Hey, Rogers! What's this I hear about you and a hot analyst?"


	2. Chapter 2

This is a work of fanfiction. No profit is being made.

* * *

Steve was very happy it was Friday. He was going to enjoy this weekend. Two blissful days away the whispers, stares and Clint's constant ribbing. Ever since the incident with Darcy yesterday, Clint had taken great joy in sharing every rumor he heard. Each one was worse than the last, though, he was pretty sure Clint was making some of them up just to see his reaction. It was nice to see the other man finally show some enthusiasm but he wished it wasn't for this particular subject. He wondered how Darcy was faring. She had enough to worry about without people pestering her about how he was in bed.

He was mildly amazed at how much their paths crossed in the last two days. They never directly interacted after he returned her glasses but he saw her everywhere; in hallways, in meetings, in break rooms. He wondered if people were maneuvering them into each other just to see their reactions or if he really had never noticed her before.

As he climbed the stairs to his floor, he wondered about what to do with his evening. It was a beautiful day, he could take his sketchbook out to the park. That sounded good. He was tired of being stuck indoors.

He heard the shouting as he rounded the corner at the bottom of the last flight of stairs. When he reached his floor, he looked down the hallway at the man causing the commotion. Steve couldn't make out what he was saying. He was facing away, looming over whomever he was shouting at. Then Darcy moved out from between the man and the wall she had been pressed against. She was blocking the door to an apartment.

Steve started running as soon as the man grabbed her by the arms. He was halfway down the hallway when the man pushed her. She stumbled back and her foot twisted, causing her to fall. When the man opened the door and started in, Steve was right behind him, grabbing his shirt and throwing him back into the hallway. He skidded for several yards before rolling into a crouch.

The commander in Steve analyzed the man's moves. The way he immediately rose from the ground, perfectly balanced and ready to fight. He was obviously an experienced fighter. Not experienced enough, Steve thought to himself as the man lunged forward without taking the time to view the situation. This time Steve threw him into a wall. Not hard enough to hurt him, just stun him a little.

He immediately moved to Darcy's side. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better." She wasn't looking at him, though. She was looking over his shoulder at the man who was now cursing and using the wall to brace himself as he stood.

"You need to leave now." Steve told him.

"Who the hell do you think..." He stopped, eyes wide. This time Steve was glad to be recognized.

"Leave. Don't come back." Steve ordered.

He glared at Steve, then Darcy. "You accuse me of cheating but it sure didn't take you long to replace me," he spat.

Steve watched him as he walked down the hallway, snarling at all the people drawn out their doors by the commotion. Once he was gone, Steve turned back to Darcy. "Can you stand?"

"I think so." She pulled off her shoes and gingerly slid to her knees. He took the shoes from her and gave her his arm. She used one leg to stand and, once up, gently put weight on the other. She gasped in pain and clutch his arm tighter. "Bad plan!"

He scooped her up into his arms and took her into her apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. "Do you have any ice?" he asked as he placed her into an arm-chair and dropped the shoes. He spared a moment to wonder how she could stand to walk in those spikey things all day.

"There's a bag of peas in the freezer."

Once he retrieved the bag, he took her ankle and examined it. She winced and clutched the arm of the chair. "Sorry," he said and placed the makeshift compress on her ankle. "I don't think it's broken but it might be sprained."

She shook her head. "I've had a sprain before, I think it's just twisted a little. Should be okay if I keep off it."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You mean in addition to rescuing me... twice?" She shook her head and looked away. "Maybe, throwing his stuff out was a bad idea."

Steve could only shrug in response, not that she was looking at him. He used the moment of silence to survey her apartment. He was a little shocked. "Wow, you have a lot of books." Every bit of wall space was taken up by bookshelves, each one full.

"Yeah," she drawled. "A room without books is like a body without a soul."

He grinned, "I like that."

"I can't remember who said it but I think he was a pretty smart guy."

"I would have to agree," he replied as he perused the books on the shelf closest to him.

"This is just my fiction collection. I keep all my non-fic in the bedroom."

"Have you read all of them?"

"Most of them. If I don't read a book a week, I feel like a slacker. I swear I keep the local bookstores in business all by myself."

"If I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes." He quoted.

She grinned back at him. "Another smart guy."

"Would you mind if I borrowed some?"

"I'm always willing to assist a fellow bibliophile."

* * *

Monday morning found Steve in a meeting. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. They felt sticky. He should have known better than to start a new book that late in the evening. He had gotten so caught up in the story, he didn't stop reading until he finished it. When he put the book down, he realized it was morning and he was running late. He had barely made it in time for the meeting. Part of him wished he had been just a little later. Thankfully, it was not a long meeting.

He had almost made it out the door when Agent Hill called for him. "Captain Rogers, a moment please."

"Of course," he replied.

She waited until the room was clear to speak. She paused before doing so, as if uncertain how to begin. "Normally we don't like to get involved in the personal lives of our employees."

"Seems like a good policy," he said, warily.

"However, when a prominent figure like yourself begins brawling over a girl..."

"I didn't brawl over a girl," he interrupted, sharp and angry. "He hurt her and tried to force his way into her apartment. I am not in the habit of standing by when people are being attacked."

"I see. I apologize. There have been several rumors..."

"Maybe you should find a more reliable source of information. Are we done?"

"Of course. Thank you, Captain."


	3. Chapter 3

This is a work of fan fiction. No profit is being made.

* * *

The armored panels of Steve's jacket thumped solidly against his sides as he ran down the hall towards the stairwell. The call to assemble had come while he was in a training session. His phone had gotten buried under some gear and he had not heard it. They had finally paged him over the intercom but he was running late. He had pulled on his under suit and trousers, thrown on his jacket and tucked the rest in his belt before bolting. He would right everything on the helicopter ride to the rendezvous point.

He threw open the door to the stairs and began climbing, taking the stairs four or five at a time. His momentum was so strong that when someone opened the door ahead of him and entered the stairwell, he couldn't stop. They collided and a cloud of papers flew into the air. He dropped his shield, grabbed the person in front of him and twisted. His back hit the wall with a crunch and he winced in pain. He dragged air back into his lungs and looked down to see a familiar mop of hair.

"Darcy, are you okay?"

"M'okay." She raised her head to look up at him and his brain shorted out. She was pressed against his chest and he had a perfect view down the front of her blouse. One of his legs was pressed between hers, rucking her skirt high up on her thighs. He dragged his gaze back to her eyes and they stared at each other. He tightened his grip around her waist and, when she gasped, leaned in closer.

They both startled when the door opened and an agent walked through. He stared at them in shock before stammering an apology and stumbling back through the door. Darcy groaned and thumped her head on his shoulder.

"Everyone in this building is going to think I'm a total skank." She looked back up at him. "Weren't you in a hurry?"

He swore and dropped her, lunging for his shield; which he promptly dropped again to steady Darcy when she stumbled. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I'm fine. Go save the world." She told him.

"Sorry!" He grabbed his shield and continued his climb up the stairs. He burst out onto the roof and ran for the waiting aircraft. He climbed in and the pilot started takeoff procedures. They had just lifted off and were about six feet off the ground when Darcy ran onto the roof and towards the helipad waving something over her head. He swore when he realized that the red and blue blur was a glove and his cowl. "Hold on!" He shouted to the pilot as he unbuckled. He grabbed the sidebar and leaned out as far as he could. The pilot dipped just low enough for him to grab the offered items before resuming the climb. "Thank you!" He shouted.

She tossed him a salute and sashayed back the way she came. He watched her until the chopper flew around a building and blocked his view. Only then did he set about straightening his uniform.

* * *

The battle was done and he and Clint were combing the wreckage looking for pieces of the robots. He sighed, "I think we got everything we can without digging through the rubble. Let's meet up with the others."

"Thank God!" They carefully picked their way across the ruined compound to where SHIELD had set up a base camp to deal with the clean up. He looked for his team among the agents. The Hulk and Tony were easy to spot. Hulk was tossing the deactivated robots into the back of a truck while Tony stood to the side with a couple of agents. He thought he spotted a flash of red hair as someone entered the main tent but he wasn't sure. As they got closer, he noticed Tony looking at him with a strange grin. Then he noticed who Tony was talking to. It was the agent from the stairwell.

"No," he groaned. "No. No. No!"

"What?" Clint asked, concerned. He followed Steve's gaze to the other men and looked back at Steve with an assessing look. "Oh, I gotta hear this!"

"Clint!" he snapped as the other man ran off. He groaned again, maybe he could catch a jet back to base before his teammates caught up to him.


	4. Chapter 4

This is a work of fan fiction. No profit is being made.

Sorry about the angst and the lateness.

* * *

"It doesn't matter how good she is with those pistols, if she looses them, she's screwed." Clint argued.

"That's true," Steve agreed, "but I think it will be easier to increase her training in hand-to-hand than it will be to train any of the others to match her situational awareness. It's uncanny and adding that to her skill with firearms makes her a strong candidate."

"I'm not sure she has the mindset for it." Clint said as he leaned his chair even further back on its hind legs. Steve had no idea how he hadn't tipped over yet. "She gets squirrelly every time she has to do something that requires physical contact."

"Squirrelly? That's real descriptive."

Clint rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Steve paused a moment to debate the options. "I'll intensify her training. If she doesn't show improvement by the next evaluation period, I'll have her moved to another training program."

"Sounds good. Who's next?"

Steve made notes in the folder and set it in the completed stack. As he reached for the next one, someone knocked at the door. "Come in," He called and one of his trainees entered. "Agent Carver, I'm sorry, the evaluations are not complete yet. I won't discuss them until they're all done."

The agent shook his head. "I'm not here for that. I have something for you."

"Sweet, a bribe. Gimme!" Clint held out his hands and made grasping motions.

The agent looked down at Clint with an expression that made Steve uneasy. The man produced a flash drive and placed it on the corner of the desk. "I don't care about the evaluations. My purpose was to get close enough to you to discover your weaknesses."

There was a loud thud as the front legs of Clint's chair hit the ground. Steve knew without looking that he was ready to move if the agent went for a weapon. However, the man simply stood with his arms at his side. "What is that?" Steve asked.

"Your reason to cooperate with our demands."

"Which are?"

"For you to surrender yourself and all the weapons you stole from us." Then there was an all to familiar crunch and the man fell to the floor. Steve leapt the desk and knelt at the fallen man's side but knew there was nothing he could do. He sneered up at Steve as foam poured from his mouth. "H-hail Hydra."

Steve knew Clint was already in the hall shouting orders and making calls but he couldn't do anything except stare as the man convulsed and went still. He didn't understand. Hydra was defeated in the forties. How could this be happening?

Eventually, agents came to take the body and the flash drive. He moved out of their way and sat in the chair Clint had vacated. Loki used the tesseract to travel to earth. Was it possible that Schmidt survived and returned to rebuild his army? Steve didn't realize how caught up in his thoughts he was until Clint touched his shoulder.

"Hey, Cap?"

"Hmm?"

"The techs are scanning the drive to make sure it's safe to open. Fury and Tash are going to meet us in conference room two."

"Okay, let's go." They traveled quickly down the halls, dodging rushing agents the entire way. As they approached the conference rooms, they heard Fury shouting.

"Someone damn well better tell me how an enemy agent managed to infiltrate my headquarters!" Steve and Clint shared a look before entering the room. Fury and Natasha stood on opposite sides of the room looming over agents working at computers. "About time you two got here!" Sitwell open that thing up."

"Yes, Sir!" The screen on the far side of the room flashed on and displayed a closed file. Sitwell opened the file. "There's a text document and a video."

"Open the text document first," Fury ordered. It was instructions for the drop off.

"I've got the address. Clint and I will start scouting," Natasha said. Fury nodded and the two left the room.

"Now the video," Steve said. Was it a threat or a hostage? Multiple ideas ran through his head but one in particular made his gut clinch in fear. Peggy was still alive and so were a couple of the commandos. How terrifyingly appropriate for them to take someone who was not only dear to him but also participated in Hydra's original defeat. However, when the video started playing, he faced with a possibility he had not considered. "Darcy?"

She was tied to a chair and gagged. A man stood next to her with his hand resting on the back of the chair. Behind them loomed the organization's symbol; a red skull on a white background. She looked so afraid.

"Greetings, Captain America," The man in the video said. "As you can see, we have taken your lover."

At that, Darcy reared back to look at the man and started talking. It was impossible to understand her through the gag but her exasperation and disgust were clear. Steve almost smiled. As scared as she must be, she still held on to her sass. However, any relief he felt at her display of spirit disappeared when the man pulled back his arm and slapped her.

He turned back to the camera and snarled. "You received this video at one. At two, we will give her ten lashes. Every hour you make us wait, she will be punished. I recommend you act quickly, Captain."

* * *

Two o'clock passed as strategy was argued and orders were given. Thanks to a traffic jam, it took almost three hours to get a truck loaded with fake crates. Even if the director had been willing, getting the hydra weapons from the helicarrier would have taken a couple of days. Six rolled by as they drove and seven was fast approaching as they sat a couple of miles from the drop point, waiting for the last of the strike teams to get into place.

"I'm half an hour out, Cap. Can you hold on?" Iron Man asked over the coms.

"No, another hour will have passed by then. As soon as the teams are in place, we're moving," Steve replied.

"Fashionably late again," Tony said.

Steve bit back a sharp retort. He knew sarcasm was how Tony handled serious situations, picking a fight wouldn't serve any purpose. He had jumped on people all afternoon, until Fury had taken him aside. He deserved the dressing down, everyone was doing their best. It was just hard to hold on to that when every delay brought them closer to another hour mark.

"Captain!" Sitwell tumbled out of an SUV and ran towards him. "We're receiving reports of an attack five miles west of here. It's robots."

Steve swore and clenched his fists. Bastards planned this to pull away the rest of the team. "Did you catch that Iron Man?"

"Yeah. Kind of wish I had talked Bruce into piggybacking."

"Redirect. Hawkeye, Widow take teams alpha and beta with you. Delta team, your orders stand. You take the back, We'll handle the front. Are you in place?"

"Affirmative, sir."

"Good. Move out, everyone." Steve had one agent with him to drive the semi. The rest would follow in the SUV. The SUV would stop just out of sight of the warehouse while the semi pulled into the loading yard as instructed. Steve hoped they would hand over Darcy before they checked the truck. The driver would escort her to safety and that would leave them free to deal with the Hydra agents.

A dozen heavily armed men exited the warehouse as the semi pulled in. Steve and the driver climbed out and moved around to the front of the vehicle. The two groups stared at each other until the man from the video walked into the yard.

"Captain, we were beginning to worry we had taken the wrong girl."

"Where is she."

"She's inside. We were... prepping her for the next session."

"Bring her out," Steve ordered.

"As soon as I'm certain you've followed instructions." He gestured to one of the guards. The guard walked towards the truck. When the man was within six feet, Steve threw his shield. It connected and flew back just in time for Steve to use it block a barrage of bullets as they retreated for cover.

* * *

After the battle, Steve took Darcy directly to medical. He left Sitwell to handle cleaning up the warehouse. Once the doctors had taken her from him, he located an empty break room to hole up in and wait for news. He sat for hours staring out a window and nursing a cup of coffee until Agent Sitwell came looking for him.

"How did it go?" Steve asked.

"Fine. The report from the doctor says she's stable. She should be able to make a complete recovery."

Steve slumped over the table in relief. "Thank God!"

"Captain, I can't imagine how it feels to have someone you love taken and-"

"She is not my girlfriend!" Steve interrupted.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just-"

"She's my neighbor. She lends me books," Steve snapped. He rubbed his eyes as guilt and relief warred inside him. Both gave way to anger. "She was kidnapped and tortured because SHIELD agents are a bunch of ear hustlers!"

He slammed his fist down on the table. His cup fell over and they both watched as the cold coffee puddled in the large crack that now crossed the top of the plastic table. Steve cursed and went to get a handful of paper towels.

"I was with you when you found her," Sitwell reminded him. "I saw your face. That was not the look of a neighbor."

Steve paused in his cleaning. "It doesn't matter. How could she... it just doesn't matter anymore."


End file.
